


Kneeling Before His Queen

by TheBadIdeaBears



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist - All Media Types
Genre: BDSM, Blow Jobs, Cunnilingus, F/M, Gags, Gun Kink, Gunplay, Masturbation, Rope Bondage, Tattoos, Vaginal Sex, Voyeurism, dom Riza Hawkeye, sub Roy Mustang, they're not loaded promise, tiny miniskirts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-01
Updated: 2017-05-01
Packaged: 2018-10-26 09:15:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,760
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10783887
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheBadIdeaBears/pseuds/TheBadIdeaBears
Summary: Sometimes Roy is a bastard. Sometimes Roy is a bastard intentionally because he knows that the 'punishment' is just as much of a payoff and Riza is always willing to dole out a fitting punishment...





	Kneeling Before His Queen

**Author's Note:**

> Written for our Christmas fic swap in 2015 for Pandora from Holly.

Rope bit into Mustang's skin as he tried to shift into a more comfortable position, although given his current circumstances 'comfortable' was not something he was likely to achieve. He had lost track of how long he had been like that; on his knees in his office ( _his_ office for fuck's sake), ropes criss-crossing beautifully over his chest and binding his hands behind his back, a bit of cloth shoved between his lips and tied round the back of his head. Fuck it was uncomfortable. Fuck it was embarrassing. Fuck it was hot!

He was so aroused it hurt. Every time he moved it caused the rope to rub against his already sensitive skin and send jolts flowing through his body, down to his cock. He was light-headed, dizzy with arousal, and he was torn between wanting to stay bound and gagged like that for the rest of the night or wanting to do something to relieve the throbbing pressure in his crotch. Maybe it would have been better if she hadn't left his trousers on...

He looked up at her, drinking in the sight of her long, gorgeous legs, crossed at the knee, as she sat at his desk polishing one of her pistols. Those legs... just the thought of being between those legs made his body undulate with desire. All he could do was watch her meticulously cleaning her gun just wishing that she would lavish the same kind of attention on him. As it was he was helpless; a slave to his desires, a slave to his circumstances and a slave to the absolute goddess that was Riza Hawkeye.

Hawkeye had been sitting there calmly polishing her each of her guns, not giving him a second thought. This frustrated Mustang almost as much as being this hard and not being able to do anything about it. Women didn't ignore Roy Mustang! He was Central's most eligible bachelor; the Flame Alchemist, Hero of Ishval. Women worshipped him, they didn't ignore him. If he could only get out of these damn ropes he would throw her down on the desk and make her see why women didn't ignore Roy Mustang.

His struggling caught Hawkeye's attention. A small smile ghosted over her lips as her gaze flicked over him. She had no intention of letting him know that she was watching him, not yet anyway. The sight of Roy Mustang on his knees, bound and gagged, in front of her was such a delicious sight. It was clear what he wanted but she was not going to give it to him. He was going to learn that he belonged to her and her alone. He was going to learn the meaning of denial, he was going to learn how to appreciate an orgasm tonight.

“Oh, would you like some attention?” she asked finally looking up from her gun. Mustang wanted to glare at her, wanted to show her exactly what he thought of her ignoring him, but he couldn't. He couldn't bring himself to do anything other than lower his head in submission and nod. Hawkeye smirked down at him. “Maybe you should have thought about that before you replaced my uniform for your own sick fetishes.”

Okay maybe he deserved that. He had swapped out her uniform skirt for a miniskirt the other day. Who would blame him though? Hawkeye was gorgeous and her legs and backside made lesser men drool. Surely there was nothing wrong with wanting more of that on display for his viewing pleasure to keep him entertained while being forced through tedious hours of paperwork, was there? It had been good for his concentration and she hadn't noticed how much he, and every other red blooded male in the room, had been looking at her... well she hadn't until he had decided to purposefully knock some papers off the edge of his desk. She had bent down to pick them up and the view had left him audibly moaning.

He really should have controlled himself. If he had just managed to keep quite then she would never have worked out he had done it on purpose so he could look at her. If he had just held back the moan when he caught a glimpse of the curve of her backside just underneath the end of the miniskirt then he wouldn't be in this situation. He couldn't help himself though. She was just so stunning he had to get his kicks where he could. He had made his bed now all he could do was hold her gaze and try not to allow his body to betray his desires.

“Speechless I see.” Hawkeye said smirking. “I never thought I'd see the day when the infamous Brigadier-General Roy Mustang would keep his mouth shut.” Now he was going to glare, defiantly at her. Struggling ineffectively against the ropes he let out a ragged breath, showing her exactly what he thought of her comment. Of course he was fucking speechless – she had shoved a rag in his mouth for fuck's sake.

A wave of pleasure washed over Hawkeye but she didn't let it show. She loved seeing that fire in his eyes, that defiant gleam that said he may be bound and gagged but there was no way he was going to give in that easily. It was one of the reasons why she had chose to forgo a blindfold. He didn't do well with blindfolds these days, not since the Promised Day. He had learnt that the hard way when one of Madame Christmas' girls had snuck up behind him, playfully covering his eyes. He hadn't been expecting it and had accidentally broken her arm as a result. Vanessa had forgiven him though, girls always did. Well, Hawkeye thought, if he hadn't have done it she probably would have done. His reputation still preceded him but she made sure to keep him in his place.

Before Mustang could even react Hawkeye got to her feet and strode across the room to him, gun still in hand. She grabbed him roughly by the hair, forcing his head back and pressing the barrel of her gun under his chin. The cool sting of the metal against his heated skin and the dull throb in his scalp caused a low groan to rumble through his chest. Hawkeye smirked and pressed a soft kiss to the hollow of his throat, not removing her gun from his neck.

“This is what you want, isn't it?” she asked, voice low and dangerous. She pressed another soft kiss to his neck, forcing his head back to expose more of his skin for her lips to tease. Kisses so light they were barely there trailing up his neck leaving him panting and needy. “You want to be used like a good little fuck-boy, don't you?” He remained silent. Moaning at the wrong moment was what had gotten him into this mess in the first place and it was only likely to get him into even more trouble now. When he didn't respond Hawkeye gave his hair another sharp tug.

“I asked you a question.” she said. This time Mustang couldn't hold back the moan that tore through his throat. His eyes rolled back and he tried to push his body up into hers, desperate to feel some kind of friction against his skin. He needed her, worshipped her, and god when she was like this it was every single fantasy he'd ever had come true. She chuckled softly and if he wasn't too far gone already he would have instantly been on edge. “So well behaved.” she said kissing the edge of his mouth gently, easing him into a false sense of security. “It seems as if I've broken this mustang in completely.”

He raised an eyebrow at her that clearly said 'horse jokes, really?' The smug look she gave him in return said 'yes, really'. He wanted to jerk his head away but the grip she had on his hair was like a vice and she still had the barrel of her gun pressed against the underside of his chin. Had she taken the bullets out of that? He couldn't be sure... he hadn't remembered seeing her do it. He knew she would never do anything to put him in any danger – hell, she was the one who usually stopped him running headlong into danger – but he should probably behave and do as he was told just in case. Hawkeye softly ran her thumb over his bottom lip, underneath the gag.

“Would you like to me to take this out?” she asked, her eyes fixed on his lips. Oh god, he would. He wanted her to take it out. He wanted her to lavish the same attention she had been giving his neck on his lips. He wanted to taste her, to try and reclaim some of his pride and dignity by making her moan into his mouth. He nodded, which was no easy feat with his hair fisted in her hand and a gun under his chin. Hawkeye smiled. “If I take it out you have to promise to behave. Can you do that for me?” Again Mustang nodded. “Good.”

She leaned closer and pressed the gentlest of kisses to his top lip. Mustang had to stop himself from moaning again and pushing himself closer to her. She already knew how much he wanted her, his body betrayed him enough to tell her that, but he had to at least try and maintain some kind of dignity.

Soft fingers undid the gag and removed it from between his lips. Once it was gone Mustang swallowed then coughed, trying to get the feeling in his mouth to return to normal. What he really wanted was to feel Hawkeye's lips against his, to have her tongue in his mouth and her thighs either side of his hips. Before he had a chance to even try and lean forward and claim her lips she got to her feet. Clearly what he wanted and what he was going to get were two very different things. He watched as she placed the gun on the edge of the desk before she sauntered around him, coming to kneel down behind him.

Fingertips ghosted down his chest, running close to the rope, soothing the tender skin, before coming back up to his shoulders. Each time her hands would venture a little lower but not low enough that she was touching where he really, desperately needed her to. She dug her fingernails into his skin, dragging them up his chest. He let out a hiss, pain mingling with pleasure in such a delicious way he found himself arching his back, pressing his shoulders into her chest and thrusting his hips forward.

“Riza...” he panted as her hands just brushed the top of his trousers. She smirked. She already had him begging, calling her by name, which he only ever did when he was really desperate for her. She ran her tongue over the shell of his ear, nipping the cartilage at the top, and relishing the shiver that ran through him.

“Tell me what you want.” she whispered. Her breath ghosted over his skin and he bit his lip to stop himself from moaning again.

“I...” He faltered as she dipped her fingertips just inside the waistband of his trousers. His breath was ragged as he tried to compose himself.

“Tell me what you want... Sir.” she said again. Mustang's reaction was stronger than either of them had imagined it would be. He let out a low moan, thrusting his hips upwards, desperate for her to touch his cock, his body undulating like a wave and his head falling back onto her shoulder. Hawkeye bit her lip to keep her own moan silent. So Mustang got off on being called Sir? She would definitely remember that little piece of information for another time.

“I want you to touch me.” Mustang managed to choke out, the words getting caught in his throat as he tried to speak. His head was spinning, dizzy from arousal and the fact that he couldn't get a chance to catch his breath, his cock so hard that it hurt. He felt Hawkeye chuckle softly behind him.

“But I am touching you.” she said. He could practically hear the feigned innocent look on her face and again he had to fight the urge to break free, throw her down on the desk and fuck her till she was screaming. He could easily do it, he still had his gloves on. One click and she would be on her back, his cock deep inside her, and screaming his name loud enough for the neighbours to hear. Her hand dipped into his trousers again, this time reaching right down so that she was mere inches away from his cock, and all thought of escape left him. All he could think about was getting her to do something to relieve the aching pressure between his thighs.

“My cock.” he gasped as her teeth scrapped over the join between his neck and shoulder. “Please touch my cock.” Hawkeye chuckled. This really was too easy.

“Is that what you want... Sir?” she asked. Mustang moaned again, thrusting his hips forward in a futile attempt to get her to touch him. Now that she had this new piece of information she was going to use that to the fullest.

“Yes.” he breathed. “God yes. Please touch my cock!”

Suddenly the warmth of Hawkeye behind him was gone. She got to her feet and came round to stand in front of him. Mustang looked up, his gaze trailing slowly up her legs – those gorgeous legs that he admired so much – until he reached the bottom of her coat. God, he wanted to get her out of that coat and out of the rest of her clothes. Riza Hawkeye was a sight to behold but her without clothes on was something spectacular.

She reached over and grabbed him by his hair again, pulling him too his feet. Mustang allowed himself to be shoved backwards until the back of his knees hit a chair. She shoved him down into it, towering over him. The look in his eyes made her stomach clench; hungry and desperate for her. Gently she ran a hand through his hair, loving the fact that he leaned into her touch, panting softly.

“Well you have been so good tonight” she said, a small calculated smile that made his stomach flip playing about her lips. “I think you deserve some kind of reward.”

With no other warning Hawkeye sunk to her knees in front of him. Mustang couldn't take her eyes off her as she leaned forward and popped open the button on his trousers. His body stiffened as she took the zipper between her teeth and slowly dragged it down, never breaking eye contact with him. He fought the urge to thrust his hips upwards again, needing to feel more of that delicious friction against his heated flesh. Once his trousers were open she reached in and worked his cock out. All he could do was stare as her tongue darted out to wet her lips. His heart was pounding, blood rushing in his ears, as she slowly leaned forward. Her tongue slowly traced a line up from the base of his cock to the tip.

Mustang let out a shaking breath, his head falling backwards, as she took his entire length into her mouth. Fucking hell! The feeling of that warm, wet heat bobbing up and down on his cock was amazing. She knew just how to make him writhe with soft moans that sent vibrations travelling through him. It took all of his strength and will power not to thrust his hips up slightly, desperate to feel more of her amazing mouth around his cock. He knew that if he did then the delicious warm, wet velvet would be snatched away from him.

It was only when Hawkeye took him deep into her throat, swallowing around the head that he began to lose it. He was going to cum. If she kept this up, tracing her tongue over the underside while keeping the heat and suction around the head, then he was most definitely going to cum. Breathy moans were falling hard and fast from his lips and he could feel his orgasm building, about to rip through him. Before he could stop himself he had thrust his hips up ever so slightly, trying to get more of his cock into her mouth.

Just as he had known she would Hawkeye pulled away immediately leaving him right on the edge, desperate to have that final push over the edge that would bring him complete and utter ecstasy. A strangled groan tore through his throat as she sat back on her heels and then pushed herself to her feet. She looked down at him, cold amusement in her eyes, he looked amazing. Hair dishevelled, a fine layer of sweat forming on his skin and his eyes hazy with desire. Seeing the usually calm, collected and put together Roy Mustang panting and groaning, begging like a dog for affection was glorious.

Slowly he raised his eyes to her face. The corner of her mouth turned up in the mockery of a smile and she slowly began to undo the buttons on her coat. Once they were all open she let it fall to the floor and the sight nearly broke him. Hawkeye, as it turned out, had been wearing nothing underneath the coat the entire time she had been in the room with him. He couldn't even work out when she had taken off what should have been underneath, he came to the conclusion that she had never had anything on under it and that thought turned him on so much.

“I thought I told you to behave.” she said. “Or were you enjoying your reward a little too much?”

“I...” he chocked trying to catch his breath. “I'm sorry, I...” Whatever he had been about to say died in his throat; the sight of Hawkeye standing there, stark naked, in front of him knowing that she had been naked underneath that coat for the entire time was almost too much for him. With stunning elegance she hopped up onto the edge of the desk and spread her legs wide, displaying herself completely to him. Slowly she ran a finger up the inside of her thigh.

“Well I think I have a very fitting punishment for you.” she said and all Mustang could do was stare as she slowly dragged a finger up her cunt, slipping it inside herself before moving up to her clit. She let out a soft moan as she began to pleasure herself, rolling her hips up thrusting into her own hand to make the feeling last longer. Mustang's mouth hung open as he watched, unable to take his eyes off her. Just watching her pleasure herself and not being able to touch her or touch himself was abject torture. He struggled against the ropes keeping his hands in place but it was to no avail – she had tied them incredibly tightly, probably for this exact reason.

He stared, mouth watering, as she continued to touch herself for him. Her breath was becoming faster, her soft moans slightly higher pitched and her breasts were pushed out as her chest rose and fell. God he wanted to touch her. He had never in his entire life been so jealous of someone's finger. Every time she moved it down from her clit to press inside her cunt he wished it was his finger or his tongue or his cock. His mouth was dry and his head was spinning as she let out another soft moan that he was sure was his name.

“God please!” he chocked out as she slipped a second finger inside herself. “I want to touch you! Please, god, let me touch you!”

“Why should I?” she asked but he could hear the definite rasp in her voice that said she wasn't quite as in control as she wanted to be. She was still in control of him though. She had him begging to let him touch her for fuck's sake.

“Because I want to make you feel good.” He was pleading, begging; all pretence of pride and wanting to keep his dignity had gone out of the window. All he wanted, all he needed was to touch her. There was amusement in her eyes as she held his gaze, still pleasuring herself.

“What makes you think you can do a better job?”

“I think you know that I can.” he said, smirking at her. She raised an eyebrow at the cocky expression on his face. Well they would just see about that, wouldn't they?

As gracefully as she had got on there she slid off the desk and made her way over to him. His eyes zeroed in on the sway of her hips as she walked, god she was stunning. Her alabaster skin as smooth as it had ever been, the only blemishes he had given her – the scar on her back and the tattoo just above her hipbone of a black horse rearing up on it's hind legs, matching the hawk, with spread wings, above his heart. He licked his lips as she stood in front of him, close enough to touch but with him bound in place an entire world away. She reached over and gently ran the back of her hand over his cheek.

“Show me that you're not all talk.” she said softly. She grabbed the back of his hair, pulled him out of the chair and shoved him, roughly, to his knees. She placed a foot on the chair and shoved his face in between her thighs. He kissed the inside of her thigh before nipping the skin lightly. Clearly not interested in allowing him the opportunity to tease her in any way she gave his hair another sharp tug and pushed his face closer to her cunt.

He didn't need any more of an invitation than that. His tongue ran up her cunt, groaning at her taste. His groan sent vibrations flowing through her, making her moan softly and push her hips closer to his face. He flicked his tongue over her clit wanting to show her that he could make her feel just as good, if not better, as she could herself. Her taste was exquisite and he couldn't get enough, even as he felt himself needing to pull back and breathe her unrelenting grip on the back of his head kept him in place. He could feel her shaking slightly and he knew that she was close. He continued his relentless attack on her clit – if he could just get her to cum before he did then their battle would be over and he would have won.

Of course she wasn't going to give him that option. Just as she was reaching her peak Hawkeye wrenched his head away. She kicked the chair out of the way, letting it clatter to the floor, and practically threw Mustang down onto his back. He wriggled, trying desperately to find a comfortable position to lie on bound hands, but was halted in his movements as, without warning, she straddled his hips and sank down onto his cock. His eyes snapped open and a soundless moan left him as he was enveloped by her wet, tight heat.

Almost immediately she began rocking against him, taking him by surprise with her furious pace. He thrust his hips up into her, loving the feeling of his cock being buried deep inside her cunt and wanting to get as much of that feeling as often as possible. Moans were falling hard and fast from both of their lips as they continued to fuck right there on the floor. The way she looked straddling his hips as she rode him was a sight to behold, it would forever be ingrained in his memory whenever he closed his eyes.

“You... look so... fucking good...” he panted. “riding me... like that.” He gave a particularly hard thrust up into her, making her throw her head back and moan.

“You're... pretty good... yourself.” she replied in kind. “A mustang begging... to be ridden... is just stunning.” If he had had more presence of mind he would have rolled his eyes and told her 'enough with the horse jokes' but he was so close to the edge he could barely think. He watched as Hawkeye reached down and began to rub her clit in time with her thrusts against him. She clenched and writhed around him and he knew that she was close. He was too but he just wanted to hold out until he had made her cum first. She was in charge but he wasn't going to be the one to finish first, not if he could help it.

A few more thrusts up into her delicious cunt and she was cumming around him, clenching, shaking and crying out his name regardless of who heard or whether she was supposed to be the silent, dominant one in all of this. He made her feel too good to care. As she broke, shuddering through her orgasm around him he tumbled over the edge, releasing inside her, both of them continuing to rock against one another at a frantic pace to make sure that they rode out their orgasms to the fullest.

Mustang let his head fall back against the floor, utterly spent and exhausted. He just about registered Hawkeye climbing off him and leaving him in order to go and sort herself out. When he finally had enough strength to sit up he clicked and the ropes binding him burnt away. He pushed himself to his feet, stretched out the stiffness in his arms, tucked his cock back into his trousers and went to find Hawkeye. She emerged from the bathroom wearing nothing but one of his shirts that came down to her mid thigh. A light blush dusted her cheeks when she saw him, a complete contrast from the vixen she was a few moments ago. He reached over and brushed a lock of her hair out of her eyes.

“Hey you,” he said. “how're you doing?”

“I'm good.” she replied. “You?”

“I'm absolutely brilliant.” he said reaching over and kissing her lips. “You were amazing.”

“Thank you.” she said. He always told her how amazing she was after one of their sessions but she never got tired of hearing it. Never being one with words it was his way of telling her he loved her. “You were pretty good yourself.” She took his hand. “Shall we go to bed?”

“That sounds like an amazing idea.” he replied and allowed her to lead him through the house they shared to their bedroom. He let his gaze linger on the end of the shirt, he was just able to see the curve of her backside as she walked. He chuckled, thinking about how he had gotten himself tied up and tormented in the first place.

“If that's the punishment I get for making you wear a miniskirt to work what are you going to do to me when you find out I ate the last brownie.” he said absent-mindedly. Hawkeye turned to face him, an eyebrow raised and he immediately regretted ever having opened his mouth.

“Would you like to repeat that?” she asked.

“I, um...” he hedged, putting his hands up in defence. “Well you see the thing is... I was hungry and... I can go and get some more...” Fuck! He really needed to learn when to just stop talking.

“Okay.” Hawkeye calmly reached over to the chest of draws, opened the top draw and pulled out another of her guns. She cocked it and pointed it at his temple. He was pretty sure that that gun did have bullets in it and that she was more than likely going to use it. Mustang sighed. Once again there was no way that he was going to win in this situation.

“Let me put a shirt on and I'll go out and get some more.” he said. Hawkeye put the safety on the gun and returned it to the draw it had previously been in, smiling sweetly at him.

“Good answer.” she said and kissed him softly.

 


End file.
